Mama and I get back into the car to head to Evans Antiques.

“Can Jamal give me a ride home, or is he working tonight?”

“Don’t be fishing for information about your brother from me. If he wants his space, you’re giving it to him. He’ll forgive you when he’s ready.”

Mama’s words fill me with the hope that I haven’t forever changed my relationship with Jamal before he goes off to college.

“Me, on the other hand,” Mama says, and tsks, “you’ve got a long way to go. I don’t know what you were thinking.”

“I was only trying to help—”

“I don’t want to hear it now. You’re gonna make me late.”

With Mama, it’s different. She can forgive, but I know she won’t forget. This is on my permanent record, even if Mama wants Daddy home as bad as I do—if not more. My mind searches for ways to get Mama to forgive me. I look away, thinking of everyone’s disappointment at the studio, and my eyes cloud with tears.

We arrive at the downtown complex that’s filled with small businesses and a variety of local grocers and stores. Herron Media, where Jamal works, is three blocks away.

At the antique store, Mama’s the bookkeeper and online consignment sales rep. They gave her a job after Daddy’s trial.

When I park, Mama nudges me. “Don’t get used to riding with him to school now. Friends are good things, but you don’t need to get caught up with him just ’cause y’all get along…”

Mama doesn’t finish her thought. Instead, her mouth is in a firm line that says that’s all Dean and I should ever be. She’s never straight-up said I couldn’t date Dean because he’s white. She’s never had to.

It wasn’t always like this. Going with Mama to Evans Antiques was the best part about her job. It had a place for me to study with a view of antique knickknacks, jewelry, and furniture, along with somewhere to kick it in the back with Dean, the Evanses’ son. She didn’t have to worry if I was running out in the streets or getting in trouble, since I was only twenty yards away from her office. It was also a place I didn’t need to think about being teased, like I was in school after Daddy’s trial. And when I got a little older, Dean was the one who gave me the paper and stamp to mail off my first letter to Innocence X.

Dean’s and my friendship began days after Jackson Ridges was killed by the cops and Quincy was hit by a stray bullet. While Quincy recovered at the hospital, Dean took his place as a friend who looked out for me.